


It’s Not A Déjà-vu, It’s The Time Warp

by Pforte



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Crossover, M/M, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pforte/pseuds/Pforte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re secondary characters in a popular children’s fantasy series. Remus doesn’t like the name but we’re calling this little group PISSA. Means <i>Popular and Ill-treated Slash Ships Anonymous</i>."</p><p>“A self-help group for the unluckily slashed,” Remus added helpfully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s Not A Déjà-vu, It’s The Time Warp

**Author's Note:**

> Edited repost. Merlin/Harry Potter/Torchwood crossover.

Arthur’s hand was trailing up and down his spine, causing him to make contented noises that he would vehemently deny making later. Lying here in Arthur’s big, luxurious bed with a shagged-out and mellow Arthur next to him was really rather nice. Yet, whenever he was relaxed and sated, he felt something dark and scary trying to take over - like a dark passenger. Some part of him - the part he hadn’t known existed before Arthur had bent him over the table in his chambers and stuffed him full of cock – some part of him wanted to ask Arthur how much he loved him, wanted to demand proof of his devotion, wanted to know whether he would love him still if he gained a few pounds, and wouldn’t he get bored with him sooner or later? Merlin didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from but he knew better than to voice them. 

So Merlin pressed his lips firmly together, trying to prevent the words from spilling out of his mouth and ruining the safety and comfort that Arthur's bed provided. In the morning, he should leaf through The Book because, maybe, there was a spell that could turn someone into a sixteen-year-old girl with _issues_.

“Merlin, stop it!” Arthur interrupted his train of thoughts.

“What?” he asked, lifting his head and looking past dishevelled, damp blond hair into bright blue eyes. 

“You’re thinking. You and I both know that nothing good ever comes from that,” Arthur said, a smirk on his face.

“You would know. Speaking from experience, most likely,” Merlin mumbled. “Only a complete prat would say something like that in a moment like this and howmuchdoyouloveme?” Merlin’s eyes went wide when he realised what he had just said.

Arthur stared at him, open-mouthed, before saying reassuringly, “Of course, I love you. You’re the Remus to my Sirius.”

“Your what?”

“My Remus.”

“I heard you the first time but what on earth is a _Remus_?” Merlin didn’t even want to think about what any of this had to do with being serious. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I forget who I’m talking to. Of course you haven’t been to any of the meetings.”

Merlin didn’t repeat the question, the _what_ was written all over his forehead. Instead of giving him a proper answer, Arthur leant over and kissed him on the tip of his nose. This was so _not_ on!

“Could you be any less helpful?” Merlin asked testily. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to take you to the next meeting which happens to be tomorrow night. There. Happy?” Arthur fell back against his fluffy pillow and looked a little huffy. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Merlin replied and, confused as he was, snuggled up against his crown prince.

 

***

 

“Where the hell are we?” Merlin was completely lost. They had left the castle and ridden to a bigger village not too far away. It was dark and cold, it was full of narrow, suspicious alleyways and it smelt of hog. Merlin wondered if ignorance wasn’t bliss indeed. 

“Do keep up, Mer _lin_ ,” was the only answer he got from Arthur. Fine. He stomped a little louder than strictly necessary as he followed him into yet another black and ominous-looking passage. 

And then, suddenly, there was light behind three tiny windows and he could hear music. A tavern!

“Merlin, you’re about to see things that are strange and...improbable. Don’t catch flies with your mouth and stick close to me, all right?” Arthur frowned at him. Well, Merlin wasn’t completely socially incompetent, was he now? He nodded indignantly and followed Arthur inside. 

And gaped.

A broomstick cleaned up the mess a shattered beer mug had made on the floor, only there wasn’t anyone wielding it. And the man behind the bar wasn’t actually a man, but more of a fish with a human body (though his hands were suspiciously red and scaly). There were people in strange garments. Not just strange but made of cloth he had never seen before. What was this place and how was it allowed to exist in King Uther’s kingdom? More importantly, how did Arthur know and why didn’t he freak out?

Arthur, completely unperturbed by Merlin’s incredulity, walked straight to a table at the back of the tavern. The two men at the table were their age and seemed to be rather normal, all things considered. They wore robes like Gaius but Merlin knew that he shouldn’t talk; his scarves weren’t exactly considered the height of fashion, either.

“Oi, Arthur! We didn’t know if you’d be able to make it this week!” One of them shouted and stood up to clap Arthur on the shoulder. He was tall and handsome, with clear-cut, aristocratic features and glossy, raven-black hair. 

“Sirius. Remus. How are you?” Arthur asked jovially and slumped down on a free chair. “This is Merlin, by the way.”

“It’s about time he shows you off. I’m Remus,” the second man said. His eyes looked older than his face and his brown hair was streaked with grey, yet his smile was young and spoke of a mischievous nature. 

“You’re _Remus_?” Merlin asked, realising what the man had just said, and then sat down next to Arthur. 

“You told him about Moony but not about me?” Sirius asked, pouting. 

“Can someone please tell me what this is about?” Merlin asked – _reasonably_ , he thought.

“We need more ale first,” Remus said. 

“Hear, hear,” Sirius agreed and jumped to his feet. Under his robes he had a fine figure. Not that Merlin noticed. He was back in no time and Merlin just _gaped_. Sirius seemed to levitate a tray with four mugs in front of him, using something that looked suspiciously like a wand. A magic wand! A wand used for magic! Arthur only smiled and took a mug when the tray arrived at the table. 

“Arthur, isn’t magic, er, forbidden in Camelot?” 

Arthur made a face that showed what he thought of Merlin’s question. “We’re not in Camelot, Merlin. At least not strictly speaking. This is neutral territory.”

“You see, this tavern is a meeting point between several worlds, most of them fictional,” Remus explained. 

Merlin didn’t want to seem like a simpleton, so he nodded. “Who are you two then?” he asked, still completely lost.

Sirius sprawled on his chair and put an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “We’re secondary characters in a popular children’s fantasy series. Remus doesn’t like the name but we’re calling this little group PISSA. Means _Popular and Ill-treated Slash Ships Anonymous_.”

“A self-help group for the unluckily slashed,” Remus added helpfully. “Padfoot here came up with the preposterous name.” 

“Um, okay?” Merlin said weakly. “And what do you do?”

“We help each other preserve our characters. Freeing them from fandom clichés and so on,” Arthur replied. He looked completely at ease, so Merlin tried to relax, too. He found that the ale helped with that. 

“Have you ever had strange and alien feelings that threatened to overtake you?” Sirius asked. Merlin nodded, though he had always blamed puberty for any strange and alien feelings. “See, we’re all in the same boat.” 

Arthur said, “That’s right. You and me, Merlin, we’re the latest PISSA members. Sirius and Remus here know their stuff. It’s basically the same fanbase that tried to corrupt them.”

“People move on,” Remus said, shrugging. “But they don’t really change their spots.”

“Huh?” made Merlin.

“Oi, there are Jack and Ianto!” Sirius announced loudly and waved at someone behind Merlin. Naturally, Merlin turned to see who had just arrived. The newcomers were as different from Remus and Sirius as they could possibly be. One of them was dressed in a strange, well-tailored dark-blue suit, the other wore trousers with braces and a long and swishy coat. He was also a bit older than either of them. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite self-help group: Looking good, everyone,” the man in the coat said with a strange accent and a dazzling smile. He rolled his _r_ s in a distracting way. 

“Merlin, meet Ianto. He’s another angsty, secretive manservant looking for a steady relationship.” Arthur grinned, clearly enjoying this. 

“I make excellent coffee though,” Ianto said, smiling. 

After another round of drinks, things became clearer. Or so Merlin thought.

“We’re all _steroties_ , or whatever you call them,” Arthur said, with a distinctive slur. “And victims of wish-fulfilment.”

“Yep. See, I’m rather footloose and fancy-free but in fanfiction? Pining after Jack here _all the time_ ,” Ianto complained and downed his beer in one go. 

“Same here. Angsty and secretive werewolf considering myself unworthy of Sirius. Although everyone knows that the lovesick bugger has been infatuated with me since our fifth year at Hogwarts,” Remus said. “Also, I’m supposed to love chocolate, even though I only hand out the stuff as a remedy against Dementors.”

“Demenwhat?” Merlin asked.

“Dementors. They suck the happiness out of you and you feel as if you could never be cheerful again. They’re also really creepy.”

“Uther is a Dementor? _Ouch_!” Merlin rubbed the back of his head where Arthur had socked him.

“Never mind. The point is that we have to have little notes all over our house, reminding Moony of his true self. He becomes emo at least once a week,” Sirius said sadly. “He can’t help himself.”

“And Jack, Sirius and Arthur all have to deal with a huge, exceptional burden, their stunning good looks and spontaneous attacks of emotional retardation,” Remus explained dryly.

“Me, I’m arrogant and handsome and I angst about my immortality,” said Jack, looking as if he had made this kind of confession a hundred times already. 

“Exchange immortality with future kingship and you’ve got me,” Arthur said, shrugging. Merlin decided that this was probably not the best moment to tell him about The Once and Future King stuff. 

"How did you get to know each other?" asked Merlin. 

“Arthur and I met at an _Heir In Despair_ meeting.” Sirius grinned. 

Merlin couldn’t help snorting in his drink. “What?” he asked in-between gasps. 

“A group for royal prats with parental issues,” Remus clarified. 

“Oi!” exclaimed Sirius and Arthur at the same time. “It’s not like that,” Sirius added. Remus rolled his eyes and drank more beer. 

“Who else is a member? You, Jack?” Merlin asked.

“Nah, not me. My origins are a bit blurry but I’m pretty sure that I’m not royalty.” Jack waved his hand dismissively.

“Jesus,” Sirius said. Merlin looked at him expectantly. “No, really. Jesus is a member. And technically our founder.”

Arthur nodded in maudlin agreement. “If anyone knows about parental pressure, it’s Jesus, man.”

“He put his foot down when it came to the sequel. We can all learn from Jesus,” Sirius said with reverence. There were a few moments of approving silence. 

“Sir, you spilt beer on your shirt,” Ianto said to Jack. The formality was strangely out of place in this tavern between the worlds. 

“Don’t look so confused, Merlin. It’s a thing he has. He calls Jack _sir_ all the time. So many repetitive stories, so many clichés, the pressure was too much. He succumbed at one point. You just watch yourself or you’re going to call Arthur _Sire_ incessantly,” Remus told him sympathetically. 

Merlin stared at him in horror until Arthur patted his arm and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re doing great so far. And it helps to know that you’re not alone. I have to fight the urge to call you _idiot_ in every second sentence. I mean, it’s not as if you aren’t one but it has been getting a bit excessive lately,” Arthur said, furrowing his brow. 

“We’ve been there, all of us. Padfoot here used to call me _Remy_ when things got really bad between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix.” Remus looked faintly amused and incredulous, as if it had taken some time and effort to find this amusing at all. 

“What? I caught you calling me _Siri_ at least twice.” Sirius’ face was flushed with embarrassment. 

“Water under the bridge, eh?” Arthur said amiably. Merlin’s heart swelled. His prince was going to be a _great_ king. 

“I think we can all agree that fandom nicknames are a bother. I’d hate to think of anyone as _Yan_ , least of all myself,” Ianto said. Merlin could understand that. Luckily, he and Arthur seemed to have been spared from this particular cliché. 

“Having to go through that time of the month is bad enough,” Remus agreed grumpily. “Literally and metaphorically in my case.”

“Merlin asked me how much I love him last night,” Arthur blurted out, looking a bit pale and shaky. Merlin wanted to crawl under the table and die but everyone made tut-tut noises and Jack paid for another round and flirted with him until he felt better. 

“Don’t worry, Merlin. This is not your fault,” Ianto told him. “We – meaning Remus, you and I – are what you could call _girl substitutes_. You just need to be strong and do something manly every now and then. Sparring with Arthur might be a good idea. Or coming here and having a chat with the lads. That and beer.”

Merlin felt a little forlorn, despite the friendly company. He knew that his life was in the hands of some ineffable destiny but this sounded as if a hitherto unknown power was playing with him as well. He liked being a bloke just fine! His eyes narrowed as he looked at Arthur.

“And you! You can be all manly and testosterone-laden, I bet!” Merlin accused him.

“He also gets to be obnoxious and emotionally stunted,” Sirius said, sighing. “You have no idea how often I was forced to cheat on Remus here just to fulfil someone’s jaded fantasies. And I was made to kiss _girls_.” He shuddered.

“Yeah, we’re being turned into unfeeling man-whores, if we want to or not. It’s a violation of our personalities, that’s what it is,” Arthur said, his lower lip wobbling. 

“Give me your mug, Arthur,” Merlin said decisively. If there was something he couldn’t stomach, it was a sniffling, red-eyed crown prince. 

“I need to let it all out!” Arthur slurred. 

“That’s true. Otherwise he’ll end up like Padfoot. For months he had an allergic reaction when someone said _‘Their love is so canon’_.” It must have been traumatic because both, Remus and Sirius, looked rather pained. 

“I can’t look at a stopwatch without getting the shivers,” Jack complained. “And not in a good way.”

“Can’t we do something about it?” Merlin suggested. 

“Don’t you think we tried?” Jack asked, looking offended. “It started with Kirk and Spock and they failed miserably. And that was _before_ the internet.” He gulped. “I travelled through time and space and even the Doctor couldn’t help me. They’re just too powerful.”

“But who are _they_?”

“They are Those Who Must Not Be Named,” Remus whispered. The following silence spoke of doom. 

“They’re basically everywhere. This is one of the few places they can’t follow us,” said Jack with a satisfied smile.

“We hope,” Ianto added dryly.

“Isn’t this getting a bit too meta?” Sirius threw in. He looked haughtily into the round and Merlin wondered whether they learned this kind of thing at _Heir in Despair_.

“You’re asking this _now_?” Remus asked incredulously. Arthur coughed. He did the attention cough admirably well, since everyone at the table looked at him.

“We haven’t talked about sex yet,” he announced with princely authority. 

“True.” Sirius agreed. 

“Great,” said Jack, grinning widely. 

“Do we, er, have to?” Merlin wasn’t too keen on discussing his sex life. Although he enjoyed Arthur’s confessions of love and devotion (aka ‘Yeah, I think I could do worse than you.’), he wasn’t big on talking sex. He left that to Arthur, too. Mostly. Sometimes he forgot himself and any decency his mother had taught him and said things that would normally make him die of embarrassment. He had the creeping suspicion that this had to do with Those Who Must Not Be Named as well. Bugger it all, it was easy to get paranoid!

“Well, it’s a bullet point on our agenda, so yes,” Ianto explained. Merlin noticed only now that he was writing a protocol. Weird bloke, that Ianto. 

“All right, let’s get to it,” Jack said excitedly. It was unmistakably his favourite item on the agenda. “Has anyone felt compelled to shag without lube, violate the laws of physics or re-enact bad gay porn?” Jack looked at all of them encouragingly. “I’m not against any of these things, by the way. That one time when I was on Gardalooparapantos I met these triplets and --”

“Yes, thank you, Jack,” Arthur interrupted him hastily. Then he leaned over to Merlin and whispered, “Believe me, you _don’t_ want to know.”

“Um, I begged Sirius to fill me with his magnificent length on Tuesday. And he called my cock _spongy_ the day after. I don’t have to tell you how quickly that kills the mood,” Remus said, displeasure audible in his voice. 

“Oh dear,” muttered Ianto. He finished scribbling and gulped down a mouthful of beer. “Much to Jack’s disappointment, it’s been the usual role play. Either we drown in fluff or we’re trying to be kinky in the most unimaginable way possible. I wish that Those Who Most Not Be Named would spice things up a bit.”

“But not too much,” Sirius chipped in. “I don’t have to remind you all of the time when I had to deep-throat my own brother, do I?” Merlin paled. “Excluding the Winchester boys and the Petrellis from PISSA meetings was the best thing we ever did,” Sirius added passionately.

“It isn’t their fault!” protested Remus. 

“Clearly, you don’t have any siblings, Lupin,” Sirius replied testily. 

“I have fantasised about non-con lately,” Arthur burst out, his ears bright red. 

“You have?” squeaked Merlin, staring at him. He pushed his chair a few inches away. 

“I can’t help it,” Arthur snapped defensively. “I don’t understand it, either. It’s not exactly in character for me, is it?” He glared miserably at Merlin in a way only Arthur could.

“Neither is me blowing everyone who asks for it,” muttered Merlin.

“WHAT?” Arthur yelped in a high-pitched voice and jumped off his chair. 

Uh-oh. “Never mind?” Merlin tried. 

“Who asks you for sexual favours? I’m going to gut them and feed their entrails to the goats,” Arthur raged. Merlin looked helplessly into the round. 

“Distract him!” mouthed Remus.

“I can do magic!” Merlin clapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the words were out. Speaking before thinking was a bad, _bad_ habit. Arthur stared down at him, eyes wild and shocked. “Now please don’t have me executed?”

“You can do _what_?” roared Arthur, looming over him.

“Ahem, Arthur,” Remus said, suddenly standing next to the glaring crown prince of Camelot. 

“What?” he snapped.

“We’re in the tavern between the worlds with a fishman as a bartender, mate. And Sirius and I are wizards.”

“That’s not the point,” grumbled Arthur but let himself be manhandled back onto his chair. He poked his finger into Merlin’s chest. “You lied to me!”

“Oi, you fantasise about raping me!”

“But I _haven’t_!”

"Yet!"

“Boys,” said Jack. He waved his wrist comm at them. “Don’t make me use suspense of disbelief on you! I only have to press one key and you’re going to enjoy it!”

Arthur shut his mouth and contented himself with glaring at Merlin. Merlin glared right back. 

“Good lads.” Jack smiled widely and toothily. “Arthur, you told us last week that you’ve known about Merlin’s magic since The Poisoned Chalice.”

“Hmph.” 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Sirius said. 

“It’s the time warp,” added Remus. “You have no idea how often I’ve had to forgive Sirius for the Prank.” 

“The time warp?” Merlin frowned in confusion. He wondered if the crease was going to become permanent with all the frowning he had done lately. 

“It’s a circular disturbance in time and space that is formed by three-dimensional molecules of fictive reality,” Jack said.

“Sir, remember our talk about techno babble?” 

“Erm, yes. Sorry, Ianto.” Jack smiled apologetically. 

Just then, Arthur shuffled closer to Merlin, without falling off his chair, which was an accomplishment, considering the amount of pints he had drunk. “About before...well, can you forget I said anything?” His eyes were bright and slightly glassy. 

“Um, forgetting is apparently not our biggest problem,” Merlin said. 

“And then there is the blasted innuendo,” Jack announced loudly, continuing a conversation from which Merlin had zoned out of. Arthur’s blue eyes had been demanding all of his attention. They were really rather beautiful. Merlin found that Arthur made a very appealing drunk. Surely, nobody would mind if he kissed his intoxicated prince? 

“Seriously, we could just as well call ourselves _Sexaholics Anonymous_ ,” Remus said and Merlin drew back as if burnt. 

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Jack protested. 

“I’m still trying to make him see that three times a day isn’t average.” Ianto sighed but Merlin could have sworn that he saw an appreciative gleam in his eyes. The bell announcing the last call sounded at this point. 

“Well, what is the plan for next week?” Sirius tilted on his chair, his black fringe falling nonchalantly over his eyes. 

“Next week is gonna be good. The Doctor and the Master promised to come,” Jack announced. 

“Oh, jolly good. Last time the Master tried to take over the tavern with speaking monkeys. It was a blast.” Sirius reminisced, smiling. Remus’ eyes were fixed on him in an intense sort of way. 

“Can you blame him? The Doctor has a BDSM phase and ties him up and spanks him all the time,” Ianto said and stashed away his neatly-folded notes. 

“Nguck,” made Arthur, trying to cover it up as a cough. Merlin sincerely hoped that this wasn’t another fantasy of his. Although...

“It’s been terrific. I’ll just...have to see a man about a hippogriff,” Sirius said, cheeks flushed.

“Yes, so do I.” Remus nodded to them and hurried after Sirius. 

“They always do that. Unscripted public sex, I can see the appeal,” Jack said, leering at Ianto. 

“It’s all fun as long as you’re not the one pressed against the tiles,” Ianto replied tartly. Merlin couldn’t follow. He always used a chamber pot or the countryside. 

“Well, see you all next week,” Arthur said a little too loudly, his words slurred, and got to his feet. “Come on, Merlin. Time to go.” Merlin said his goodbyes to Jack and Ianto and hurried after his wavering prince. When they reached the door, Arthur stopped and pulled him close. His breath smelt of ale but that didn’t really lessen Merlin’s need to kiss him silly. 

“One more thing,” he said. “We don’t speak about PISSA outside the tavern. We don’t want _them_ to become suspicious, do we?”

“No, Sire. First rule of PISSA, don’t talk about PISSA, got it.” Merlin smirked, his thoughts somewhere else. He realised too late that he had called Arthur _Sire_ unnecessarily once again. Bugger. 

Outside, Merlin tried to make out the name of the tavern and nearly choked on a laugh bubbling madly up his throat, when he discovered that the sign read _Tavern Between the Worlds._

 

***

 

“Feeling better now?” Arthur asked later when they lay in his wide, opulent bed. 

Merlin’s eyes wandered over Arthur’s broad shoulders, down his delicious back to the scrumptious arse that was now bright red and probably burning as fiercely as Merlin’s palm. He was a bit embarrassed that this had excited him so much but Arthur, playing the obnoxious prat, had pushed him and then he had made these _noises_ and lifted his hips up to meet his hand and it had made Merlin very, very hard. He supposed that this was a fantasy he could gladly fulfil. Repeatedly. Lazily, he leant in for a slow, languorous kiss. All in all, being the crown prince’s manservant wasn’t so bad. 

Still lying on his front, Arthur burrowed his face into Merlin’s neck and draped an arm possessively over his chest. Merlin knew from experience that Arthur could and would fall asleep anywhere but that this was preferable to a sleep-heavy crown prince draped all over him, refusing to let him breathe. Perhaps Arthur should have been allowed a cuddly dragon as a child. He could even have named it Merlin. It would have saved the real Merlin from death by cuddling. And then Arthur _snuffled_ and Merlin forgot to be annoyed.

“Hey,” he said before Arthur would drift off. “Thanks for...you know what.” He felt better indeed and less inclined to voice his undying love in alliteration. His dark passenger had been chased off for the time being. 

Arthur huffed against his neck and mumbled, “Let’s keep it a secret.”

Merlin bit back a laugh. He could do _that_. And the following week, he would try to find out if there were group meetings for boy-wizards of obscure birth who were destined to do great things.

 

_FIN_


End file.
